A Band Camp To Be Remembered
by Silent Vixen
Summary: A new-to-the area freshman, a half-brained psychotic section leader, a corruptable junior, and water balloons turns the Shadow Mountain Highschool Band into a group filled with giggles, evil, plottage, and ... insanity!


((Hi! This is the very first band-fic I've ever written. I've read a lot of them, and I just decided to try my hand at the whole thing. Please, please, PLEASE!! Review. If you do, I'll love you forever. And maybe I'll review one of your stories. And give you chocolate. Mmmmchocolate. *__*  
  
Disclaimer -- All these characters don't exist in real life. Their personalities might be modeled off of people I know, but that's because I can't create my own personality-types, so I just kidnap them from random people... ^__^))  
  
It was a bright, sunny, hot summer's morning in California. A light breeze rustled through the trees and bird song could be heard loud and clear. A rather large group of students sat outside a building, looking hot and sweaty. All of them were caring black, hard shell cases- cases with instruments. Around the edge of the group stood a girl who was looking slightly lost. She carried a trumpet case, and inside of it was her trumpet. The girl's name was Karima. Her mouse-brown hair was combed loosely down around her shoulders.  
  
The reason for her lost look was clear: She was new to Shadow Mountain High School. Her parents had moved from Delaware all the way over to California. When she moved to California, she immediately enrolled in her high school's band, for she loved band more than anything else. Today was the day that marching band camp would start- the bus left at 11 AM. She felt so little and alone. Moving to a different high school, and not knowing anyone was bad enough, but moving to a different high school when you were a freshman and being automatically labeled as a nobody? That was tough.  
  
The buses would be here soon, she hoped. She glanced around nervously at all the other people. She was so alone, here. To her relief, three buses arrived and they happened to be nice, expensive, comfortable busses. The band director directed for one bus to be reserved for brass, one bus for woodwinds, and the other for percussion and the color guard. She carefully scrambled onto the brass bus and took an open seat towards the back.  
  
"Excuse me?" came a voice to her left. She turned her head to see the face of a boy who looked like he was either a senior or a junior.  
  
"Yes?" she asked meekly. Karima always had been scared of people older than her.  
  
"Froshies sit in the front. Why are you sitting in the back?"  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled, "I didn't know..."  
  
"Yeah, well, you do now. Move."  
  
Karima got up as if to move, when another voice sounded from behind the boy who was making her give up her seat.  
  
"Give it a rest, Matt. Let the girl stay there if she wants." A taller male came into view as he pushed past the boy who had tried to make her move, Matt, and slid into Karima's seat. Karima sat very still, looking quite dazed.  
  
"Hi!" said her rescuer, grinning widely. "Name's Brett."  
  
"Hi?" she replied lamely, flushing and staring down at her feet.  
  
He laughed. "Don't be scared. I assure you that I don't bite very hard."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Well, that me makes me feel so much more comfortable." As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn't. "Sorry," she said quickly, "My friends always tell me that I'm very pert."  
  
Brett just chuckled and ruffled her hair fondly. "Silly froshy. What's your name?"  
  
"Karima, sir," she answered. This reply sent the senior keeling over with laughter.  
  
"Karima? Well then, Karima, you amuse me. I don't think anyone's ever called me sir before. No, no, I can safely say that I've never been referred to as sir... Well there was that time when the one old lady... but that doesn't count..."  
  
She blushed. "Sorry..."  
  
Brett sighed. "Relax, froshy. I'm one of the nice seniors. In fact, I don't know what the director was on when he assigned me the position, but I'm the trumpet section leader."  
  
Her eyes widened. "I play trumpet..."  
  
He laughed and pointed to the case that was on her lap. "Yes, I know. S'why I saved you from Matt. A good section leader looks after his froshies."  
  
A female head popped up from the seat in front of them, and she waved at Brett. "'Lo Brett!" after taking a couple minutes to survey his seating position, she uttered, "Who's the frosh?"  
  
"Hiyaz Charlie! The froshy's named Karima. She's in my section."  
  
"Ohhhhh..." Charlie said, and laughed. "Hi Karima! My name's Charlie, I play trombone."  
  
Karima just nodded and stared blankly at Charlie, causing the girl to laugh and fall backwards off her seat.  
  
"I know," Brett said, grinning madly, "She's a very amusing frosh, isn't she?"  
  
Charlie just laughed and nodded. Karima looked on in wonder.  
  
"Brett, I hear there's going to be a section war at camp!" Charlie exclaimed.  
  
"Oooh! They haven't had one of those since my freshman year... when they banned them because of the one... incident." He finished lamely.  
  
Karima made a face resembling 'O_o?'. "What's a section war? And... what was the incident?"  
  
Charlie explained it this time. "A section war is where they reserve a week of camp, give every different section lots and lots of water or other non- hurting warfare weapons. Then each section wanders around trying to capture members of the other section. If the section leader is captured, that section is disqualified. The drum majors judge it. And, well, err... the incident that happened three years ago... A group of clarinets chased a couple of trombones into a cactus. They had to go to the hospital to get the cactus spines dug out of their flesh."  
  
"Eep!" Karima squeaked.  
  
Brett laughed. "Don't you worry, little froshy, I shall protect you from the mighty evils of the cactus!"  
  
Karima giggled for the first time since meeting the senior. She beamed up at Brett, and he grinned down at her.  
  
"Thanks, Brett, that means a lot."  
  
Brett just smiled and petted her appreciatively. For some reason, she felt the odd sensation to start purring.  
  
Suddenly, the bus door opened, and the band director stepped into the bus.  
  
"I have an announcement! We have decided to room you all by section, instead of by gender. I trust that all of you are mature enough to keep your hands, lips, and other organs to yourselves and away from members of the opposite sex. That is all!"  
  
He waved to them and stepped down off the bus.  
  
Karima turned to Brett. "Is that a good thing?"  
  
"More or less. It means that you get to sleep in the same room as me."  
  
"...Is that a good thing?"  
  
Brett chuckled. "I'd say so." He winked at her, and she smiled.  
  
Karima glanced around the bus and saw the same person who had tried to make her move, Matt, glaring at her. She met his gaze for only a few seconds before she turned away.  
  
"Does matt have something against me?" she asked Brett.  
  
"Probably. Because, see, you stole 'his seat' and then I defended you and made him look bad."  
  
"But I didn't mean too! I didn't even-!"  
  
Brett put his fingers to her lips; his eyes dancing. "I know, I know. Matt's just sour. He'll get over it eventually."  
  
Karima nodded, and enjoyed the bus ride in peace, every once and a while holding conversations with Brett and asking him questions.  
  
***  
  
The three buses arrived at the campground within minutes of each other, and the campers piled out of them. Most sported excited looks.  
  
"Alright, band!" cried the director to get everyone's attention. When he did, he started his talking again. "Welcome to another great year of band camp! This year, the rules are pretty much the same. No running, no chewing gum, No going anywhere without a buddy, respect everyone else... and so on."  
  
He waited for a few seconds to continue on. "A week from now, we will have a section war!" he waited for the cheers to fade and started again, "The winning section gets a very special prize... but we will not tell you what the prize will be!  
  
"Until then, it's marching and music practice all day long! You are dismissed! Go to your cabins, get unpacked, meet back here in an hour!"  
  
The section leaders gathered their sections up, and headed off towards their cabins. Karima trotted after Brett like a lost puppy. Karima took notice of two other females in her section. "I won't be all alone then...!" she exclaimed in relief.  
  
When they got to the cabin, Brett immediately claimed the cleanest-looking bunk. "This is mine," he informed the rest of the section, "If you touch it without permission, I will bite you. And bite you hard."  
  
The section members scrambled off to get beds and Brett stopped Karima. "My froshy gets the bunk above me so I can keep an eye on her. You know?"  
  
Karima wasn't in the mood for arguing and nodded meekly, while climbing up the ladder and putting her suitcase on the shelf.  
  
And so it went. Karima became friends with the rest of the trumpet section, and had forgotten completely about her troubles and problems. That is, she had forgotten them until the Monday morning of the Section War.  
  
***  
  
At dawn, Monday morning, Karima found herself being woken by the soft nudges of Brett's hand.  
  
"Karima, it's Monday!"  
  
"...mmyeah...?"  
  
"Section war!"  
  
"War... section?.... OH!" gasped Karima and jolted wide awake.  
  
"If we want to win this thing, we have to get started early! Help me wake up the others, will you?"  
  
Karima nodded and hopped (ladders are for sissies!) down from the top bunk. She was actually glad that her section leader was competitive. It would be more fun with a leader that took the war seriously, and not just as a game.  
  
She awoke the female trumpets, and some of the male ones, while Brett awoke the rest. The entire section was gathered into the middle of the floor.  
  
"Three years ago," started Brett, "There was a war. It was a vicious set of battles, in which many were taken hostage and tortured. Some, even, brutally wounded. One group prevailed over the rest. They were trombones...!" he paused, allowing time for people to give gasps of astonishment. "I was a member of that war... a tiny, useless frosh. Oh, how my section battled so hard. We should have won that year, we should have! We didn't... but we still have this year! We will be the best! We will be feared, worshipped, and envied by the other sections who have been lowlier than us for eternity! Now is our chance to prove ourselves great! It will be hard, it will be challenging. It will test our unity as a section. But it can be done... it can! It can, and it will! For we are the trumpets!"  
  
Brett smiled crazily and stared down at his section.  
  
"Umm. Now what am I supposed to do?"  
  
The rest of the section, including Karima, laughed.  
  
"Err, Brett..." started a fellow junior-trumpet (who's name was Alex), "Can we go back to sleep?"  
  
"Can I have five dollars?"  
  
"Umm. No."  
  
"Then you get to stay up! ^__^!"  
  
"Pff. Slave-driver section leader."  
  
"Aww, c'mon Alex, you know you love me."  
  
"Umm. No. But I'll tell you what, if I can go back to sleep, I'll pretend to!"  
  
"Howabout, if you pretend to, I /i make you run laps?"  
  
"Well, fine then. Be that way!" Muttered Alex, playfully glaring at his section leader. In truth, Alex didn't want to go back to sleep. Who would want to waste the two hours before the war was scheduled to start? Not him. He was just trying to add an air of lightness to the whole war deal, and get a few laughs out of the section.  
  
"Well, with that settled, let's start planning, shall we?"  
  
"Aye!" cheered the section, and gathered around Brett, eagerly awaiting orders, tips, and strategies. 


End file.
